Body Ache
by AlxM
Summary: Another sorcerer is out for revenge on Uther Pendragon, by killing his son, Arthur. But of course, that cannot be possible if his manservant is alive. As always, he somehow manages to save his prince's life, but not this time. So the sorcerer enchants a curse on the boy, an excruciatingly painful and slow death of body ache. No slash, focuses mainly on Merlin and Arthur's bromance.
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Body Ache

**Summary**: Another sorcerer is out for revenge on Uther Pendragon, by killing his son, Arthur. But of course, that cannot be possible if his manservant is alive. Just like always, he somehow manages to save his prince's life, but not this time. So, the sorcerer enchants a curse on the boy, an excruciatingly painful and slow death of body ache. No slash, focuses mainly on Merlin and Arthur's bromance.

**Main Characters**: Merlin, Arthur.

**Warnings**: None.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything, except for the sorcerer, Avian, and the method of spell.

* * *

**Body Ache**

In the darkest thread of night, a feminine figure made her way stealthily into the Camelot's Physician court. She froze as the old man, Gaius, shifted on his other side and continued his loud snoring. She sighed in relief, and then a malicious smirk stretched on one side of her mouth, and she resumed the dull clicking of her heels, slowly sneaking her way into the assistant's — also known as the _Prince Arthur's _manservant — room.

She stood over him, gazing down at his innocent expression, the way his raven-black hair is spreading all over his forehead, and she quietly watched him sleep for a moment. Excitement surged through her veins and made butterflies in her stomach as she thought about how this sweet, angelic look will soon be permanent on his face, which brought another perilous smile on her lips.

She turned away, snatched what she came for, the final ingredient of her spell, and with one last somber glance and heinous smile at the young sleeping boy, she left the room.

00000000000000

Avian had always enjoyed watching her victims die a long, agonizing death, no matter how much earlier she needed to wipe them off the face of the Earth. She wanted to start her trek of revenge on Uther Pendragon as soon as she can for the way he killed her sister, the only person in her life after they both became orphans, two years ago for practicing sorcery, and the memory of her being beheaded still made her burn with rage inside, but she kept it under control as she knew Gloria will be avenged soon enough.

And she will have it by taking away the most precious thing of his; His son, Arthur Pendragon.

But before she can do that, she'll have to kill Merlin, his manservant. She heard stories of him, about how he somehow always saves his master's life. She didn't understand how such a stupid, weak and pathetic boy like him can even manage to save a life.

But what she did knew is that she will have to remove every obstacle that got in her way, even if that happened to be an immature and foolish little servant like him.

As easier it would be to kill the servant boy quickly, she found there would be no pleasure in that, because there was just something about how the life in their eyes slowly die away, the satisfaction of watching their loved ones cry as they watch them scream and thrash in pain before they take their last breath. She loved it.

But she knew this time, it would be special, much more entertaining to watch than all the others before. There was just something about him. He's always so bright, so optimistic and positive about everything, and it'd be fun to see him lose it, to see him lying in bed helplessly, whimpering and sobbing in pain, looking hopeless and just wishing for death to take him.

And he won't be the only one she'll cause a lot of pain to.

Arthur never showed it. He always yelled at him, called him a lot of names, he seemed to underestimate him in everything, but she knew the Prince cared a lot about Merlin, and he'd never admit it, but he thought of the boy as his closest friend, and she knew that too. It'd hurt him a lot to watch that friend die haltingly, and not before hearing his anguished screams and desperate begging to make it all stop.

Avian laughed viciously, and then continued on performing her spell.

00000000000000

Merlin didn't think much of his missing red neckerchief, he was already so late that he didn't get a chance to ponder on it. He also didn't think much of the dull pain plaguing every single inch of his body, he just figured that he fell asleep in an odd position and let it go.

It was when the occasional sharp assaults came, ones that made him jerk and bend over completely in absolute and utter pain, they caused beads of sweat to form on his face, and they hurt a lot. These episodes only lasted for a few seconds, and he still never took it seriously when they hit at first. Sure, they confused him a bit, but he didn't think there was anything earnestly wrong with him.

It was when they happened the second time, and another time, and more, that caused him to worry.

But the real one came then.

"You're late," Arthur crossed his arms over his chest.

"Sorry, sire," Merlin said and smiled slightly, putting the breakfast plate on the Prince's table. He stood back, his clasped hands hanging low in front of him.

Arthur rolled his eyes in exasperation, and started eating. After two bites of his apple, and he began talking on Merlin's task for today.

He wasn't listening though, too lost in his thoughts about the events that took place this morning.

"...Merlin? _Mer_lin!" Arthur yelled his name in irritation, and it seemed he had been for a few minutes now.

His loud voice snapped Merlin out of his reverie, and he turned his head to his Master. "Y-yes, sire. Is there something you need?"

"You're not even listening to what I'm saying!" The Prince raised his eyebrows expectantly, throwing his hands up in the air. "Am I boring you?" He added sarcastically.

"No."

Arthur noticed Merlin was too quiet when his mouth was usually chattering about everything, and that was a clear sign that something was wrong with him.

"Something...seems to be troubling you. Is there something wrong, Merlin?"

"No, I a - " His statement was broken as the former assaults came back, and he lurched forward, gasping loudly in surprise and pain. He gripped the edges of the table so hard that his fingers were whitening, and he was sure there were going to be some dark bruises there.

He fell to his knees, fingers still tightened on the edges of the table. He felt tears stream down his cheeks, he felt a sob build up in his chest.

Because this time, it was incredibly fierce and consuming than the earlier ones.

He waited for them to stop, to finish.

But they didn't go away, the pain didn't leave his body. Instead, it lingered, it stayed, and it only worsened.

This time, it was constant, and there was no end.

* * *

**Author's Note**: I hope you enjoyed this and will stay tuned for the next chapter. This is my first Merlin fic. I've just started watching it last month and I'm already obsessed with these two, and the show itself of course. It's totally awesome, and I was really heartbroken to find out it ended, especially with such a tragic ending. Now, I'll just have to live with fanfiction. :D I also would like to apologize for any typos and errors. As far as I know, I haven't noticed any, but if you have, then hopefully you can point them out without flaming. :) I'm a bit unsure with the method of spell, I've only watched until season 3 so far, so I don't know if I'm doing this right.

-Alex


	2. Chapter 2

**Title**: Body Ache

**Summary**: Another sorcerer is out for revenge on Uther Pendragon, by killing his son, Arthur. But of course, that cannot be possible if his manservant is alive. Just like always, he somehow manages to save his prince's life, but not this time. So, the sorcerer enchants a curse on the boy, an excruciatingly painful and slow death of body ache. No slash, focuses mainly on Merlin and Arthur's bromance.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

Everything happened so fast. One minute, they were just having a one-sided conversation, and then the next...

"No, I a — "

Arthur shot up from the chair as his servant surged forward with a loud gasp escaping through his lips, grasping the edges of the table for support. He fell to the ground on his knees, his sharp cheekbones wet with flowing tears as he let loose a strangled sob. The sound was so light that it could have easily went unnoticed, but the immense anguish in the noise emphasized it.

Without a single clue what was happening and no idea on how to handle the situation, panic began to course through the prince's veins, causing his heart to pump faster as he watched the scene unfold ahead of him. He just stood there in shock and fear as the object of the current situation gave a blood-curdling scream, dropping on his side and curling up immediately against — what Arthur figured was — very excruciating pain, and judging by the way his arms came up to hold his thin body, the pain was either covering only his abdomen, or his whole body. He can't exactly tell.

The behavior was so foreign to him, because he had never seen his servant act in such a way, or anyone for that matter, hence why he was just standing there and gaping like a complete fool.

For a short period of time, everything was suddenly quiet, not a single word or movement from any of the two people in the room.

"A-Arthur," A small, broken whimper cut through the silence, his young voice sounding so vulnerable. He weakly rolled his head towards Arthur, staring through agonized slit blue orbs and twisted features, and the abnormal pallor of his skin did not go unseen by the prince, nor the instant bruises around his eyes.

The reliance in those eyes, the small lanky hand reaching out for him so feebly, it spread a kind of protectiveness inside his chest, the one he always felt for the clumsy, gangly and foolish, but bright and kind-hearted boy when he saw him hurt or scared in the woods.

Arthur rushed to the young boy, and dropped down on his knees beside him, holding on tightly to the pale, thin fingers stretching out to him.

"Guards!" The prince called loudly all the while trying to block the panic out of his voice, waiting and staring impatiently at the door. When nobody came, he yelled again, louder than ever. "**GUARDS!**"

In a few seconds, there were two men running inside the chambers, bowing slightly to their prince as they waited for their tasks.

"Call the court physician to my chambers quickly, and tell him it's urgent!" Arthur ordered firmly, his voice cracking a bit on the last word, but nobody seemed to have noticed the small mishap.

The guards nodded simultaneously, and with another bow, they left the room in a hurry.

He looked down at Merlin, who had his eyes pinched shut, and he felt the boy's hand tighten in his own.

Arthur got to action, going into his 'Prince Arthur' mode as Merlin would sometimes say it. The cold, hard ground was certainly not a comfortable place for him, so he encircled an arm around his slim shoulders and gradually lifted his side off the floor, laying his head against his own collarbone, his arm moving down to his back to hold him up. Merlin still didn't seem to be aware of what was happening around him, lost somewhere deeply into his anguish, and maybe Arthur was grateful that he was oblivious to his surroundings, because he did not want _anyone — _not even the person he was doing it with — to know that he was pretty much cuddling with his _servant_.

He gently pried off his curled up figure, and slid an arm under his knees.

And was actually shocked at how easily he could pick this man up, and not for the first time, he realized how skinny and underweight his manservant truly was. He vowed to himself that once they both came out of his inexplicable situation, he will find a way to force more food down his throat, even if he would have to give up his own lunch.

He was careful to try and not jostle the boy too much in his arms as he carried him to his own bed, since he wasn't sure of the diagnosis and he just didn't want to take the risk of causing him any more pain than necessary; It could be anything, ranging from something mildly serious to a major, life-threatening problem, and he cannot make it worse for him.

He didn't know why, but something inside him ached when he saw Merlin immediately turn over on his side and resume his fetal position. It just — felt _so_ wrong, because this wasn't how he was supposed to be, lying on the bed helplessly, when he was mostly running around from one place to another without even stopping to take a breath, crying softly and burying his face into the pillow as if somehow that would stop the pain, when he was usually smiling as brightly as a sun, when he always found something to joke about, always managing to make Arthur laugh even when he didn't want to. This man right here, curled up and shaking like an earthquake, had always been his source of hope and strength. When he felt trapped, like there was no way out, like there was nothing he could do; he would never admit it to anyone, but he had always — dare he say it — turned to this bumbling idiot for his optimism, for that little spark of hope that always got him through. When he couldn't believe in himself anymore, when he thought that he could never be a great king; this clumsy fool always had the right words to remove that doubt.

He never thought he would miss his incompetent and energetic nature. He always found it to be annoying and irritating, but now, he couldn't wish for anything more.

He didn't know what was happening.

But he knew one thing.

Whatever was going on with him, whatever _they_ were facing against.

He will help Merlin through it.

He will be there for him like Merlin was always there for him.

He will save him.

_I promise_.

* * *

**Author's Note**: I'm so sorry for the delayed update! I've been suffering this darn writer's block for freaking months now, and I just don't know what to do anymore. I try to write and then I just erase it and start all over, other times, I'm just staring at my screen like a complete fool. Do you know? This was approximately my eighth attempt at writing the chapter; yep, I know.

*Grins* So? What did you guys think? Was it awesome, good or eh, just fine? More bromance to come, so stay tuned! :D

I just watched the series finale . . . and I cried, and I'm about to cry right now just thinking about it. My eyes, they're freaking burning and I'm about to sob. ashjshsjda! I'm gonna die. They'll be the end of me.

To those who have review/favorited/alerted, or even simply read this story, thank you all so much. And to the new readers, please, please, please, review/favorite/alert this story! You guys are the only reason why I'm not throwing my hands up in the air and saying 'to hell with it!' at this stupid writer's block.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title**: Body Ache

**Summary**: Another sorcerer is out for revenge on Uther Pendragon, by killing his son, Arthur. But of course, that cannot be possible if his manservant is alive. Just like always, he somehow manages to save his prince's life, but not this time. So, the sorcerer enchants a curse on the boy, an excruciatingly painful and slow death of body ache. No slash, focuses mainly on Merlin and Arthur's bromance.

* * *

**Chapter Three**

Sweat covered every pore on his skin, his whole physique trembling even when he was curled up so tightly. Every centimetre of his flesh, his bones, his body burned like it was in flames of the highest of degrees; and for one insane second, he wondered if they all found out about his magic and perhaps were punishing him at the stakes now. He could vaguely feel the ground seperate from him, and then meet with something soft and silky underneath his body. Had he not been in so much pain, he would have enjoyed the luxurious mattress; but right now, his only thought was _please it hurts make it stop make it stop please it hurts make it stop please_.

A gentle warmth landed on his shoulder, soothing whispers and hushed noises filled his ears. The simple touch made him feel _so_ safe, and it made him forget the pain for just a second as he wallowed in its security and consolation; and the voice, it was so soft, _so_ gradual and comforting that it made him want more of its solace. These feelings reminded him of _her_, of her fond maternal skills, of her infinite patience with him, of her unconditional love for him. Memories of his beautiful, caring mother suddenly flooded his mind; of how every time he would fall sick, she would kiss his forehead and whisper reassuring words, the way her gentle fingers would stroke his hair and palm his cheek, and hold his hand throughout the long nights of constant discomfort and pain.

Except that this voice wasn't hers, but rather it was masculine and rough, and yet, it was still light and soothing.

And he still wanted to reach it, he still wanted its comfort. It's all he needed right now, for someone to help him through this horrible, inexplicable level of immense pain.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Arthur paced back and forth beside the bed anxiously, glancing occasionally at the curled up young servant trembling on his bed. Sobs wracked the boy's thin body, tears soaking the pillowcase and soft gasping noises filling the whole room, and also hurting the prince's heart along the way.

He looked so _small_, curled up like that, so fragile, as if he could easily break at even a simple touch; and it was only a matter of time before Arthur would stop resisting against the protective and big-brotherly feelings that are springing up inside him at the pained, strangled whimpers escaping through Merlin's throat.

Tired of standing by and doing nothing as the young boy cried himself dry, Arthur stopped in his steps, suddenly feeling detached from his body as he stared at Merlin's back for a few long seconds, before he slowly walked towards the bed, his features seeming neutral and void of any emotion. He slowly lowered himself on his knees behind him, reaching for his slim shoulder hesitantly as he heard another sob and a congested sniff, wondering if that simple touch would really break him with how frail he looked right now; curled up in a shaking ball as he held his own body protectively, his skin pale with darkened shadows under his eyes, his face crumpled with pain and wet with tears.

His hand finally reached there, palm brushing the fabric of his clothes slightly as it hovered over him falteringly, before it slowly wrapped around his shoulder with an odd mixture of firm, and yet, gentle strength.

Arthur licked his lips as he gazed at the back of his head, releasing a soft sigh through his nose, before he leaned in and began to whisper comforting reassurances in his ear. He was quite surprised at how easily this came for him, albeit he felt a bit awkward and uncertain since he was actually consoling his personal _manservant_.

And not for the very first time; he wondered why.

Why did he care so much about him? Why did his heart ache at his pain and tears? Why did he instinctively feel the need to comfort him whenever he saw him scared or hurt? Why did he feel the strong urge to protect him from everything and keep him safe? A lot of times, when they were in a battle with bandits or some other threat; he had caught himself moving in front of Merlin, standing between him and his opponents as some sort of protective shield between them, his body language daring them to try and hurt the young boy, since there were some enemies who go for the most defenseless looking person first, while the others decide he wouldn't be much of a threat and they wouldn't get much out of hurting him. Why did he think of him before himself during those times? Why did he find himself thinking that no matter what happened, Merlin _should not be hurt_.

Maybe it was his skinny figure, or his childish innocence, but he had seen a lot of people like that, yet he only thought of them as naïve and stupid, having no clue of what the outside world, what reality held for them.

He was also astonished at how soft and light he could be when he wanted to. People would have instantly assumed that; had a man like him, tough and brave, were ever to come across any situation that included tears, he would most definitely be seen squirming in his clothes with discomfort and uncertainty.

But that was all proved wrong now, and that's all they ever were and will be; people, strangers.

Because what they didn't know was that . . . Underneath the whole arrogant and hardened exterior was a kind, compassionate man; and behind the wide, broadened chest was a huge, softened heart of a caring gentleman. Inside him was a young little child, starved for love from his father, who had taught him at such a young age to stop crying over such stupid, silly things as a scraped knee, and to suck it up and move on.

Not many have witnessed that side of him, but a few.

And now it also happened to include his manservant.

He was startled when said manservant suddenly turned over on his side in one swift motion and gripped the front of his jacket in his hands tightly, his face hiding in the space below the prince's collarbone as he pressed his face deeper and cried harder. Gasping sobs went muffled into his jacket, the fabric absorbing the tears in, and it took a few seconds to realize that he was whispering something, either to Arthur or himself, he wasn't sure.

But when he caught the words, he realized that they were directed at him.

"M-make it stop," The noise sounded like a half-whimper and a half-sob, his shaky voice as low and soft as a whisper. "Pl-please . . . m-make it st-stop, _please_." His voice broke as he squeezed his eyes shut even tighter, crying so hard that he could barely breathe. More tears streamed down his cheeks, and he burrowed closer, as if maybe that would stop the pain. He sobbed again, another strangled noise that only proceeded to hurt Arthur's heart even more. "It _hurts_, h-hurts so b-bad." The final words were followed with a hitched breath, a slight hiccup-like sound.

And it killed Arthur inside, those tears, those noises, those words, and the fact that he couldn't stop it; especially when he didn't even know what it was that had him in so much agony.

So he couldn't do anything more than just wrap an arm around his shoulders and pull him closer, one hand sliding under the back of his head and loosely clutching at his hair, the other moving from his shoulder to his bicep.

"It's okay, Merlin. Gaius will be here soon. And then you'll be fine in no time."

Merlin sniffed congestedly again, his eyes slowly easing open. His head tilted up towards him a bit, looking at him through wide and wet eyes, and damp, flushed cheeks. His slightly crumpled features showed hope in them, and he asked him, his voice trusting and vulnerable, and still not above a soft whisper. "P-promise?"

Arthur swallowed hard and just simply nodded, not trusting his voice to not quiver. He hoped that he was right.

But the slight queasy feeling forming in the pit of his stomach told him otherwise.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Aww, poor Merlin! So I hope you enjoyed this chapter, hope it was good and the comfort scene was adorable. I'm so sorry for the short chapters! But I just can't ever seem to get past 1700 words, ever. It's a very rare occurence and only happens when I'm in an extreme writing mood. Thank you all so much! You guys are awesome, each and every one of you.

Hope you guys stay tuned, and review!


	4. Chapter 4

**Title**: Body Ache

**Summary**: Another sorcerer is out for revenge on Uther Pendragon, by killing his son, Arthur. But of course, that cannot be possible if his manservant is alive. Just like always, he somehow manages to save his prince's life, but not this time. So, the sorcerer enchants a curse on the boy, an excruciatingly painful and slow death of body ache. No slash, focuses mainly on Merlin and Arthur's bromance.

* * *

**Chapter Four**

"Is it serious?" Arthur asked quietly, loathing the way his stomach clenched with anxiety.

"I'm afraid so, Sire. This is no ordinary illness," Gaius informed, silent for a while until he finished quietly, "I believe sorcery may be at work."

His tone stayed firm until he finished, his features schooled into impassiveness as he tried not to let his choking fear quake his voice; tried not to let the throbbing of his heart show on his face as he heard him cry in such horrible, immense pain. He tried to pretend as if he was just treating another patient, as if the boy who was lying curled up on the prince's bed wasn't his ward; as if the pitiful gasping sobs and tears didn't belong to the young boy who was no less than his son; as if he wasn't the same troublesome responsibility that his sister had given to him with such trusting hands.

"Were there any other cases before such as this?" The prince inquired.

"No, sire," Gaius answered simply.

Silence.

"But why would any sorcerer want to target _Merlin_?" He asked incredulously, as if the possibility of such thing couldn't even be considered. "I mean, what would they want with him?" He added, sounding genuinely perplexed as his nose and eyebrows scrunched up in that typical way of his.

Gaius could think of a lot of answers to that question. Maybe the owner of the spell was after Merlin because he or she knew of his unique powers. Either that, or because the enchanter knew that a sorcerer on Camelot's side was a hindrance to destroying the city; or perhaps, he or she wanted revenge on the king by going after his son but wanted Merlin - the biggest obstruction between the enemy and the prince - out of the way. Perhaps they knew about Arthur's exceptional fondness for Merlin, about their powerful and unique bond, and the sorcerer thought of this as a way to sought his vengeance on the king; breaking his son by hurting one of the people he held most dear.

But what he said instead was, "I don't know."

*O*o*O*

"Oh, Merlin," Gaius whispered softly, his sympathetic voice quivering and colored with emotion. Gently, he slid his old wrinkled fingers through the young boy's black hair, tears glistening on the edges of his eyes as he did so.

The boy's sobs had ceased; the only signs that they ever happened were the soft hiccup-like sounds that currently emerged from his throat and the dried tears on his pale cheeks. Now, he just looked exhausted as he stared quietly at nothing, his energy sapped due to all the crying and pain.

Gaius could only imagine the level of agony that Merlin was going through from the way he weeped; from the quiet pleas coming from him when he was checking him over; from Arthur's story of what happened.

And he was extremely terrified for his ward.

"Get some sleep, my boy," Gaius said softly, stopping the soothing motions of his fingers going through the boy's raven mop of hair, and switching it instead to resting his palm on top of his sweaty head.

A weak smile graced the old man's lips as he watched the young warlock's darkened eyes slip shut, followed by his breaths deepening after a short while.

Arthur had to depart for the council meetings, even as he seemed reluctant about leaving Merlin alone. From what Gaius had seen, it was obvious that the prince cared a lot about his servant, in a way that was different than how he did for others. It somehow seemed more . . . special, despite his attempts at repressing and hiding it. It was all very evident in his actions, one example being what he just saw a while ago; his hesitance to leave Merlin alone.

And then there was this concern and fear in his sky blue eyes for his servant - no, not his servant, his _friend_.

And then there was the sight that greeted him the moment he rushed into the royal chambers in heart-exploding panic; the unexpected sight of the prince consoling his manservant through his adversity.

It clearly appeared as if Merlin, with his infinite loyalty and devoted friendship, created his path into the young man's heart and now occupied a large portion of it.

Gaius exhaled deeply and stood up from where he was sitting on the edge of the prince's bed. He stared at the innocent, sickly face with softened eyes, pushing back the emotion he felt welling up in his throat.

He bent over, his old bones cracking as he did so, and reached for the duvet, grasping it lightly and tugging it higher to his thin shoulders.

And with a final caress to the sleeping boy's soft hair, the old man straightened, spun around in a lugubrious pace, and then quietly left the room.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Hello! I'm so sorry for the late update and the short chapter! See, the thing is, I've been suffering from a lack of interest in writing these days, as I've found out. And I've done a bit research on this, the solution is to force yourself into writing, even if you don't feel like it. That's what I'll be trying to do now, I guess. I hope you forgive me.

I'm working on a new story, which I've had an incredible brainstorm for! It's a story in which Arthur is enchanted to turn abusive towards Merlin. Extreme bromance. Lots of tears, hugs, Merlin!whump and caring!Arthur afterwards. Anyone interested? :)


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